I’ve been crying off and on since 3am this morning. I really want to write something poetic, aesthetic, profound– to explain why– but I keep getting stuck in muddled facts.
Huntie: Just write with a pure heart. Trust your readers to find the light.
Me: Oh, my readers are the best. They bring their own light, just in case they can’t find it here.
Huntie: So write more.
So it is with a pure– and heavily saddened heart– that I start this by saying HuntMode passed away last year while I was away. You may already know, I don’t know. I found out just after 2:30am because Facebook sent me a message reminding me that it was her birthday.
“Of course,” I thought to myself, “Facebook. Here I’ve been sending emails and cards and voice messages, like I’m brand new.”
When I investigated further to see where she’s been, I saw the notes of condolences and processed the meaning of the words. I noticed my hands, drying my phone before I realized it was wet from tears.
When I was gone, it never seemed to occur to Huntie that I might not come back to this space, no matter how much I told her I was considering it. When I came home, it never occurred to me that she wouldn’t be here, no matter how many times she told me it was possible.
Huntie: When you read this, welcome home, Rara. Love HuntMode
Me: I just saw this right now. And wanted to cry happy, hopeful tears. Thank you, Thank you. *hugs*
I didn’t cry when I saw all the little notes she left me, so my parade of tears today would have– in a dry and strange way that possibly only the two of us would understand– tickled her funny bone. It was a recurring theme in our friendship that the Universe unfolds itself in the way it already is. The light is, and always was. The light comes, and is always here.
Synchronicity is amazing because it’s our chance to see all the lights in action. PS, we’d say in letters to one another– all the little lights. My words, or her words– I wouldn’t even begin to know.
I didn’t know she passed when I wrote the last post, and it seems completely reasonable that I’d find out only after sending our words back in the universe. Light reaches where emails and voicemails and letters cannot.
Me: Chasing Rabbit Holes? What an active blog name. What happens when you find the one you’ve been chasing?
Huntie: You fall in, of course, and begin your adventures there.
Me: Of course. 🙂 Do you ever get to come back?
Huntie: No, but then, if you do everything with love, you never really leave.
The Facebook message alerting me to her birthday was sandwiched between an email conversation I’ve been having with someone who found my blog and didn’t like what was here. Her main objection is my use of the free use of the word love, as if I really love these people I’ve met here, as if I really love my readers. That conversation has turned into something civil, though I know enough of human connections to know that she’ll never join us here. Some people understand that I can love my readers so easily because I loved them before they ever came here. The universe unfolds itself in the way it already is. The love is, and always was. The love blooms, and yet is always here.
Some people would see the humor of being told there is no way to form a real connection with someone you only know through the internet, on a day where you can barely eat because you are grieving the loss of one such friend. Some people, like me, and Huntie, and probably you. You found your way here, after all.
I never met Huntie, though I learned her name and of her family, through our years of friendship. We exchanged mail even before I ever went to jail, and she wore a friendship bracelet I made for her,until it fell off. I told her that the bracelets are supposed to fall off, after the wishes that were wrapped into them take seed somewhere. Every bracelet I mailed out came with wishes that were intended for the receiver.
For Huntie, I wished the light she gave so graciously would be returned to her a thousand times over. I wish her the same today, though I have no place to send a new bracelet, no soft earth to lay it down on as I say my proper goodbyes.
I’ve never claimed it was easy to love people you’ve met through here, only that it is a true love. One that stays with you even if they finally catch up to a rabbit hole and fall down it, leaving your realm for good.
The good news is, with all that love that zings back and forth between these wires, they never really leave. Friends that are, always were and always will be. Friendships appear with a click, and yet were here all along.
Me, in the Valentine’s Day card I just mailed: I love you, Hunty. Thank you for being. P.S. All the little lights.
I was able to screenshot this from my phone. Her website has errors because of an expired domain name, but since I know many of us know each other by our address– I hope this works: ChasingRabbitHoles.WordPress.com
I know this post isn’t as well structured as my normal posts, but I promise you what Huntie and I always promised each other–
I’ll write more.